"Very well. I pledge you my honor," replied Jaspar, impatiently. "You took it from the corpse of the lady in black."
"I did, and you must be aware that such an act would subject me to inconvenience, if known."
"Don't be alarmed; your secret is safe."
"But are you sure this is the ring worn by your niece?"
"It looks like it;" but Jaspar was perplexed with a doubt. He bethought himself that it was only in a casual glance he had observed Emily's ring. He had never examined it, and, after all, this might not be the one. There was certainly nothing strange in any lady dressed in black wearing a mourning ring. Again he turned the ring over and over, and scrutinized it closely. His finger touched a spring, and the plate flew up, disclosing a small lock of gray hair, twined around the single letter D.
"I will swear to it now," exclaimed Jaspar, in a tone which betrayed the malicious joy he felt at the discovery. He was perfectly satisfied now of the identity of the ring. It never occurred to him that D stood for any other name than Dumont.
"This appears to be decisive evidence," replied Dalhousie. "Your niece, then, must be the person brought down by the Dragon."
"Without doubt."
"As this matter, then, is settled to your satisfaction—"
"Sir!" exclaimed Jaspar.